


I've Been Waiting All Day

by Ghiacciolite



Category: House of Wax (2005)
Genre: F/M, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Other, Rough Sex, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 10:01:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29366706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghiacciolite/pseuds/Ghiacciolite
Summary: Vincent hasn't done anything with you in days, but you find a very effective way to regain his attention.
Relationships: Vincent Sinclair/You
Kudos: 19





	I've Been Waiting All Day

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a Tumblr request with the promps “i’ve been waiting all day…” and “i’m not done with you yet.” and 'sex against the wall'.

You hadn't seen Vincent since the previous night, when he went down to his workshop to do some last minute adjustments on a small figurine he had been sculpting. Normally, he would have finished it, but he seemed to be under some sort of artist's block, leaving him irritable and downright hostile at times, shrugging off all your attempts at affection and pushing you away.

But this had been going on for _days_. And frankly, you were tired of it. He had taken you as his captive muse for a reason, damn it, and he couldn't just ignore you now that he had gotten you all attached. Even though there was still always that chance he would grow tired of you, or frustrated by you, and make you just another wax figure, pretty to look at but forever still.

You didn't want that. You just wanted him to acknowledge you, to show at least a little interest. Your hand trembled very slightly as you steadied yourself against the wall, making your way downstairs to his workshop. Unlike the rest of the House of Wax, the foundation at least wasn't entirely made of wax, but there was enough roughly smeared on the wall that the texture always left a slightly unpleasant feel against your skin when you touched it.

Just like you thought, he was still sitting at his desk, struggling with the wax miniature. His tools, small and precise, worked away at the face, and you stood watching him for several minutes. He didn't make even the slightest move to show he knew you were there, but you knew he was aware of your presence.

A muffled but audible grunt of frustration came from under his mask, and he scraped the face away, stabbing the tool into its head several times for good measure. You couldn't watch any more of it.

Walking up behind him, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him backwards into a hug. He tensed, he never seemed to get used to your affection, and remained still, waiting for you to let go.

“I've been waiting all day... C'mon, Vincent, you need a break. Sometimes that's the best thing you can do for art, just walk away and leave it for later.”

He swiveled his chair around to face you. It could be so difficult to tell what he was thinking sometimes, with his unmoving wax mask ever present despite your pleas, but he did at least seem to be taking your words into consideration.

Vincent wiped his hands on his apron before standing up, removing his apron, and draping it where he had just sat. With every step he took towards you, you found it hard to not take one step back. Even after all this time, he still had an intimidating feel to him.

His arm shot out, grabbing you and pulling you close. Vincent turned and pressed you against the hard, wax-covered wall of his workshop. 

Soft words came from behind his mask, only audible enough for you to know you couldn't and weren't meant to understand them. His hands, calloused but soft, slid down your stomach, pushing your shorts down to your knees, pulling them the rest of the way off. He wasted no time in lowering his own pants, just enough to free his rapidly hardening cock.

Vincent lifted you up, your toes just barely off the floor, and pinned you tightly to the wall with his elbow. Reaching between your legs once more, he spread you open just enough to force the tip of his cock inside, before grabbing your hips and impaling you.

You cried out in a mix of both pain and pleasure. With Vincent, you could never seem to tell what sort of experience you would get with him, sometimes he was soft and gentle, treating you like a delicate glass ornament, his darling muse. Other times, he was brutal and relentless, taking what he wanted from you until you were all sobs and smiles.

You had one arm wrapped around his shoulders and the other back against the wall, scrambling to find some way to feel sturdy as Vincent fucked up into you. Your legs wrapped around his waist and you tried to ignore the rough feeling of the wax scratching against your ass.

It was difficult to decide what to focus on, your eyes wanted to close, the sensations in your lower half always felt much stronger that way, but there was something appealing about watching Vincent's eye through his mask, the way it stared with a burning intensity at your face just sent pleasant chills down your spine. You were so close.

But before you could reach that point, Vincent pressed you further against the wall, so roughly you were certain there would be an imprint in the wax, his muscles tensing and his hips rolling against your own. He came with an audible grunt, filling you up and pulling out, letting your body slide to the floor as he walked back over to his desk, putting himself away and zipping back up. He picked up the abandoned statuette, looking it over with a renewed vision.

Standing up was a challenge, your legs felt weak and wobbly, no doubt there would bruises forming later, but you walked over to him, leaning against the wall for added support.

“Vincent, I'm not done with you yet.” You mumbled, leaning your head against his shoulder.

Vincent rolled his eye and placed the miniature back on his desk. He could stand to waste a few more minutes with you, and maybe he would be lucky enough to become inspired. After all, you were his muse.


End file.
